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Myrika is by Raze!
The red-haired woman was surprised to hear her companion was already familiar with numbers -- she thought such things were entirely a part of higher learning infrequently imparted to Luperci. Few in Thornloe had been capable of simple math, and she herself was not very good at it, grasping only a rudimentary understanding of the basics. Her mind boggled and balked at the thought of subjects she'd read about -- ones with intimidating names suggesting hours of tedious calculation. Geometry, algebra, trigonometry, calculus, statistics. That might help, the tawny hybrid said, smiling.
Yes! She had perhaps become too enthused with Sparrow's success, leaning forward and yipping the word loudly, and she toned it back a bit, reclining and covering the front of her muzzle with a paw to hide her grin. She took a second to compose herself, but started speaking again quickly enough. Now -- as if it needed to be any harder, there are complications, too. Her blue-green eyes became more serious with this as she considered how to explain. There are words that are spelled the same, but pronounced differently -- sow, planting seeds, and sow, a girl cow. Both of them are s-o-w. And words that are pronounced the same, but spelled differently -- b-o-w, like, bow down, here she demonstrated with a half-bow, or b-o-u-g-h, bough, the branch of a tree.
Her own head spun a bit with this explanation, but she smiled to encourage the wood-colored coyote's learning. What I mean to get across is, language is really complicated and nobody's exactly sure how everything goes anymore anyway, so don't stress yourself out over it too much if you don't get everything right. It's not easy. This was meant to reassure the other woman, and Myrika herself had spent some time thinking of the proper way of words. Her books spoke of schools and children attending them, and though her father had taught her much, he was not a teacher -- that is, individuals of the vast human-packs devoted entirely to educating and raising the children of the next generation. He was a father and a teacher, it was different for her and many Luperci, Myri suspected. She held out the little book toward Sparrow, still grinning her encouragement toward the quieter woman.
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